


The Experiment

by p4rtyg0th



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, F/M, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Masochism, Sadism, Sexual Experimentation, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p4rtyg0th/pseuds/p4rtyg0th
Summary: He remembered what Stein had once told him:“This is just an experiment, Spirit.”Just an experiment, Spirit assured himself. Many trials are necessary to reach the right conclusion.
Relationships: Spirit Albarn | Death Scythe & Franken Stein, Spirit Albarn | Death Scythe/Franken Stein
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	The Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> I know Kami is not the name of Spirit’s ex-wife, rather only incorrectly referenced as such by fans at one point, but since she has a significant role in this, I will be referring to her as Kami.  
> This is the very first thing I have ever written for a show, so I hope ya'll enjoy the angst!  
> 

༺࿇༻

The first time he arrived home late, it was not a pleasant sight. He looked suspicious from the get-go: tie off and in hand, top collar buttons undone, and hair a mess. Spirit thought his wife would be asleep in bed, and she indeed was asleep… Slouched in the recliner in the living room. Her eyes snapped open at the sound of the doors lock cracking open. Spirit’s breath hitched and held still as she rubbed her eyes and sat up.

“Spirit?” Kami croaked, clearing her throat as she rose.

Fuck, Spirit thought. He knew his face would probably give away how panicky he was. He forced a smile, albeit ill at ease, as he closed the door behind him, turning away to do so, as to hide his face as much as possible.

“Hey, sweetheart. What are you doing up?” he asked quietly, mentally gathering himself to turn around and face her. To his advantage, all the lights were off. But he wondered if the uncertainty in his voice was as obvious as he thought it was.

After taking those moments to rub her eyes some more, Kami’s gaze rested on the disheveled form of her weapon partner and husband.

“It’s, like, 3:40 in the morning. What are you doing out so late? I didn’t even hear you get up.”

Luckily, Spirit had a lie cooked up and ready, “Oh, I’m sorry, love. Just a little emergency. A friend needed a weapon, so when they called on me, of course I had to help.”

Her brows furrowed. Oh, God, Spirit thought. She knows.

Kami calmly approached him, Spirit afraid to move. She then slowly combed down his shoulder-length hair before pushing some strands behind his ear. Spirit felt sick, undeserving to be touched so kindly by her. She ran her thumb slowly across a small scar on Spirit’s jaw, a scar that would fade by the time Maka would eventually enroll at the DWMA as a meister herself. She then clasped her hands behind his neck, pressing her body close to his.

“It wasn’t Stein, was it?” she said softly, looking up at him. “I’m worried about him getting anywhere near you again.”

“Stein!? Oh, no, no, sweetheart, don’t you worry about him,” Spirit rushed with a smile. He put his hands on her waist and continued quietly. “I’m trying to become a teacher at the DWMA, and Lord Death has expressed interest in me to be his Scythe. It was just a little test he rung me through, that’s all.”

Kami accepted the explanation and exhaled, relieved. She chuckled lightly to herself, as if she felt foolish for even worrying. “Alright. But,” her face quickly hardened, “if Stein ever tries to do anything to you again, I’ll kick his ass.”

“Now that’s a sight I’d love to see,” Spirit smiled, giving her a quick kiss. “Okay, let’s go to bed. With any luck, we’ll get maybe two? Three? Hours of sleep before Maka wakes us up for some water?”

Kami smiled and took his hand. As she led the way back to their room, he took refuge in the darkness their hallway offered and couldn’t help but wear his heart on his sleeve, his face contorting. He knew he had made a horrible mistake. And even worse, the meeting didn’t prove anything to him. He was on a search for answers, and realized he had to be more careful next time.

The two made sure to tiptoe past Maka’s door.

༺࿇༻

It wasn’t Stein - that’s god’s honest truth. Stein had nothing to do with what Spirit did late at night.

Spirit was 23 at the time - the perfect time to fuck around and make bad decisions.

23 - a bit too late for experimentation? Or just the right time?

He was convinced it was a problem between him and Kami. Maybe he just wasn’t interested in her anymore.

It wasn’t a problem with him. No way. It couldn’t be.

He remembered what Stein had once told him:

“This is just an experiment, Spirit.”

Just an experiment, Spirit assured himself. Many trials are necessary to reach the right conclusion.

༺࿇༻

It was a different woman than the first time. A few days after the first, Spirit had gotten tipsy, flirted with any woman he could see (and some girls he couldn’t) with dizzied vision, and managed to convince a woman to go with him to a hotel. Spirit knew he felt good when it was just kissing and grinding. That was for sure. Unfortunately, flirting was the fun part, and the actual act it always led to wasn’t so.

“Hey, aren’t you going to stay with me for the night?” the woman pouted from the bed as Spirit sloppily fixed his tie around his collar.

“No, I need to get home to my wife,” Spirit’s inebriated inflection forced him to pronounce “no” and “wife” with emphasis. He was desperate to get away from whoever this woman was and what they had just done. He had to try again, because she didn’t do the trick.

The woman seemed offended: “You have a wife!?” She folded her arms and sank back into the covers. “Jeez, what pigs you men are.”

Spirit turned around briskly and flashed his hand at her, “Of course I have a wife! Lookit,” he said, annoyed. But he surprised himself - he wasn’t wearing his ring. He must have taken it off earlier that night. Thank god this woman reminded him to put it back on before he went home. That could have blown everything right there.

༺࿇༻

When Spirit started at the DMWA, he had begun to recognize his full potential. He had a naturally kittenish personality, and while he was set on wooing any girl in his line of sight, he wasn’t discriminatory in his provocative jests. He didn’t think his playful remarks held any amount of seriousness to them, nor did he realize his comments towards Stein could actually be perceived as flirting. It was funny to act gay with your guy friends! It was a joke! He certainly didn’t mean anything he said. He remembered one time joking with Stein about his then-6’7” stature: “I might have to admit that I’m jealous of you - your height must give you quite the advantage.”

Stein’s brows lowered for a moment before tipping his head to face Spirits. His face then melted to reveal a controlled, coy smile. “An advantage? Of what kind?”

Later on, Spirit was hit with the realization that Stein knew exactly what he was talking about and was playing dumb.

Another time, Spirit decided to size up his hands against Steins. They rested their palms together, Spirit marvelling at how large Steins hands were in comparison to his. Stein swiftly moved his hand to the side slightly, then locking his hand tight with Spirit’s, who was reasonably taken aback.

“Gotcha,” Stein said coquettishly.

༺࿇༻

This couldn’t be happening.

The third woman was an old friend from the academy.

“Can I ask something of you?”

“Yeah, what is it?”

Spirit sat up in her bed, his friend following suit. He paused before continuing, “I want you to hit me.”

“Hit you? I mean… Yeah, sure, I guess,” she said. She raised a hand, delaying in uncertainty, before complying, striking his cheek with an open palm.

Taking a second to gather himself, Spirit looked her dead in the eyes.

“Harder.”

Blinking hard in confusion, the woman laughed. “Jesus, dude. You’re a sicko.”

“I need you to hit me as hard as you can. Closed fist. Anywhere you want, especially the face, places it’ll really hurt. C’mon.”

“Wow, I didn’t know the Spirit Albarn was into this sort of thing,” the woman said with hesitation when she realized he was serious. “But… Okay! Whatever will do the job, I guess.”

And she complied.

This served three primary functions.

One: An alibi. It would be near impossible for Kami to conclude damage like this would result from an affair.

Two: It reminded him of Stein. It was rare when their times together didn’t end with a loss of blood.

Three: Spirit knew he deserved it.

When he was sure he had a concussion, he snuck a 50 dollar bill on the table beside her front door and left.

When he finally made it back home, swaying as he opened and closed the door behind him, Kami leapt up from her seat in the recliner. That recliner was beginning to become her new bed.

“God, Spirit, what the hell,” she gasped, rushing to him. He couldn’t see very well out of his left eye, but luckily, the moonlight that dusted through their windows illuminated the look of shock on her face. She tried to calm herself down and stay quiet, lest they wake up Maka. “What the hell happened?”

His jaw hurt, but he forced himself to speak: “Another test from Lord Death,” was all he could manage.

“What the hell was this test, beating the ever living shit out of you?” she scoffed, wrapping her arm around his waist as she guided him into the dark kitchen. Gently lowering him to sit, Spirit kept his eyes on his hands as they rested on the table in front of him. Kami left to grab supplies from the bathroom; Spirit looked down to see his blood was leaking somewhere from his face and was staining his tie. When Kami returned, Spirit lightly shook his head and forced himself back to planet earth.

“I don’t like whatever these tests are, Spirit,” Kami exhaled as she opened a small first-aid box, rifling through it’s contents before carefully selecting what she’d use.

“Trust me, I don’t like them either.”

“I mean, you shouldn’t be beaten this bad in your weapon form, or maybe he’s trying to train you more on how to fight by yourself… Either way…” Kami said, hurriedly tipping some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. Her hands were shaking. “This isn’t the way to go about it. He’s being irresponsible with you.”

Kami then brushed some of Spirit’s bangs away from his temple, where some blows had clearly landed in rapid succession. Spirit inhaled with a hiss when she began dabbing at the area, a dull pain swallowing his entire head.

“I know, I know, babe, I’m sorry,” Kami murmured, focusing hard.

Spirit watched his wife’s green eyes dart from each cut to bruise on his face. These were the same eyes his daughter had inherited from her, and in them, he saw what he always did - a controlled storm. He knew that this wouldn’t last much longer.

With his body simultaneously operating full-throttle on both overdrive and exhaustion, the room darkened as Spirit’s head slowly sunk and rested on the table.

༺࿇༻

Stein was sitting on the edge of Spirit’s bed.

“This is just an experiment, Spirit. This is a controlled environment. You have nothing to worry about,” Stein said carefully, scooting closer.

Spirit withdrew. This couldn’t be happening. It was dark, as it was early in the morning, and the two had just arrived back at their place from a drunken revelry all of the fourth-years attended in celebration of their graduation and other successes. Spirit and Stein were amongst this league, now adults and were recognized as one of the best duos that would ever graduate from the academy. And naturally, being meister and weapon, the two had shared a room throughout all four years. Spirit remembered the times Stein would occasionally walk around shirtless fresh out of the shower, remembered his sleepy eyes squeezing shut in a yawn after yet another all-nighter, remembered listening to Stein go on and on about all the macabre things he learned in class that day. He remembered all the songs and books and clothes they shared with each other, remembered all the bickering over grocery shopping and chores and training, remembered all the times Spirit had used tiredness as an excuse to rest shoulder-to shoulder with him on the couch and fall asleep. He had always chalked that last one up to simply enjoying the feeling of another person… 

In Spirit’s silence, Stein realized he probably sounded too clinical and took Spirit’s tense hands in his, adding: “You’re safe. Just trust me.”

Stein then tenderly placed a palm on Spirit’s chest, tipping him backwards. As Spirit’s back hit the comforter, Stein swung his legs around Spirit’s waist and towered over him.

Stein’s green eyes bore straight into his soul.

Spirit had always had a thing for green eyes.

༺࿇༻

This isn’t working. This couldn’t be happening.

The next one, the next one, try the next one. Maybe it’ll be the next one. Something has to work.  
Much less for sex and more for attention, Spirit continued his late-night adventures into whatever bar or gentlemens club was open. With his realization lingering too close behind him, he wouldn’t dare step foot in an establishment showcasing men. That wasn’t a part of the experiment, part of the plan.

Keep going, he thought. This isn’t real, this isn’t happening. It won’t work unless you really try. Try, god dammit!

The last one was a woman he met at a run-down pub near the edge of Death City. She offered to continue the night at her place, but when they arrived, Spirit was more focused on socializing than anything else. As the two sat on the edge of her bed, Spirit talked about everything he could: his time at the academy; how he was about to become the Lord Death’s personal Scythe; his wife; his beloved daughter, the wonderful, precious, ingenious Maka; about how an old friend of his used to do strange experiments on him in his sleep when he was a teenager… 

Spirit felt himself sobering up as the very one-sided conversation continued. He felt like a children’s toy who was wound up but gradually losing steam. Lost in his own blathering, the woman finally spoke up.

“Hey, listen, mister, are we gonna fuck or what?” She asked impatiently.

Spirit fell silent. He looked at his knees, feeling like an idiot.

“No,” he said, and left.

Spirit had reached a conclusion.

༺࿇༻

“Where have you been?” Kami asked. The quality of concern behind this question diminished as time went on to the point where it sounded less like an inquiry and more of an accusation. She was seated in the recliner.

“I was with Lord Death again,” Spirit whispered in response, trying his best to elicit an uneasy smile as he closed the door behind him. Kami had already dug this conversation into a pit with a single sentence, and Spirit was desperate to shovel out of it. “I’m so close to becoming his personal Scythe. It’s very exciting, but a lot more work, y’know.”

But Kami wasn’t impressed. She wasn’t budging. Her arms were folded, her face obscured by her dark bangs as she looked down.

“A lot of time with Lord Death, huh?”

“Unfortunately so, yes.”

“A lot more work?”

Spirit realized he was still holding onto the door handle. He let go. “Yes,” he repeated awkwardly.

Dead air. Spirit felt completely and helplessly exposed. The silence lasted what felt like a good half minute before Kami spoke up. 

“It’s Stein, isn’t it,” she murmured in defeat.

Spirit felt himself wince.

“No.”

Kami looked up at him.

Spirit was painfully aware of how thick the desperation in his voice was; “It isn’t, I swear.”

“It is,” Kami said, tossing up her hands and titterering in disbelief. “It is, I knew it.”

“It’s not Stein!” Spirit couldn’t help but start to raise his voice from a whisper.

“Be quiet!” Kami hissed, finally bolting out of her seat as she quickly moved a finger to her lips. Her volume was also increasing, however, both of their voices becoming harsh. “You’re gonna wake Maka!”

“Please, you got to believe me,” Spirit begged. “Nothing has happened between Stein and I!”  
He saw Kami’s breath grow ragged at the mention of things “happening” between the two men.

“Why should I believe you? Do you think I’m an idiot?” Kami pressed. “I knew what you were like in the academy before we started dating, y’know. You had a reputation - you’re a womanizer. Look, Spirit, I’m not as much of an idiot as you may think I am. And it might not be Stein, sure, whatever. But it’s someone else. You can’t bullshit me like this anymore.”

Spirit felt his knees buckling; logically, he knew this moment was going to come soon enough. At the same time, it was inconceivable. He made his way over to the couch and sat on the edge of it, holding his head in his hands. He didn’t know how much of the truth he wanted to tell her. He clenched some of his hair in his fists as he racked his brain. Which one will it be? Your husband has been cheating on you? Or: your husband has been gay this whole time and has only just now realized it?

Spirit went with the one he thought was the least disturbing.

“Kami… I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been seeing other women, and I’m so sorry.”

Spirit didn’t want to see the look on her face, but heard her sink down into the recliner.

“You fuck,” Kami shuddered after a few moments of silence.

This can’t be happening. I’m in hell.

“But I still love you-” Spirit choked. It was true. She meant a lot to him; she was one of the people closest to him in his life.

“Yeah, well, that’s fucking rich,” Kami said with a wry chuckle.

Spirit tried his best to remain composed, but it was hard as his vision started to blur. He cleared his throat and tried to continue. “Kami, I love you and Maka so much, and I don’t want-”

“You decided you didn’t love us when you went out with whoever the first whore was,” Kami spat.

Spirit felt like he just got kicked in the stomach. Her voice was grating. He had never heard her speak with such malice, and it sent a chill through his body. With the sound of blood rushing in his ears, he couldn’t hear the sound of padded feet teetering down the hallway and into the living room’s doorway.

“Mama, I’m thirsty.”

Spirit’s head shot up, his gaze floating over to the source of the voice - a very small five-year-old Maka standing in the hallway, dressed in her matching pjs with a stuffed cat tucked under her arm.

“Oh, hey, Maka,” Kami said with an even tone, trying to smoothen out any anger she had left in her voice. She remained seated, but faced her. “What are you doing up, sweetie?”

Spirit thought he saw tears in Kami’s eyes and hoped Maka couldn’t see them from her angle.

“Well… I went to wake you guys up for some water, and I heard you talking out here, so I came out here,” she said as matter-of-factly as a meek child could.

Spirit felt a lump grow in his throat as he listened to her. There was no way she understood exactly what they were talking about, thank god.

“Oh, Maka…” Spirit pulled himself up and made his way over to her. He felt ridiculously heavy. He then dropped down gently to his knees in front of her, resting two large hands on her petite shoulders. “Mama and I are sorry if we woke you up, pumpkin. I’ll get you some water if you go back to bed, okay?”

Maka bobbed her head up and down, her large cheeks making her look like the world's most adorable goldfish. Spirit felt his eyes sting.

“Here, give your papa a hug.” He pulled her in, completely enveloping all of Maka’s tiny figure as she hugged him back, her cat dangling from her hand as she secured her arms around his neck.

Spirit couldn’t move. If… No… When Maka finds out the reason why her parents didn’t live together anymore, why Mama and Papa didn’t talk like she remembered them doing when she was little… He knew he would have engraved a view in her mind of what men were like. Lecherous, disloyal, vile. It wasn’t what he was trying to be. This wasn’t the kind of man - the kind of father - he ever wanted to be. It wasn’t what he’d ever dreamed he would be. Spirit didn’t realize he was crying until a single, stifled sob lurched his shoulders. Fuck.

“Papa? Why are you crying?” Maka asked, pushing herself away from him so she could get a good look at his face with her big green eyes.

Spirit was quick with a lie.

“You know how you cry when you get tired? Well…” Spirit sniffed and pushed a tear hastily away from his cheek. He gave Maka a sad smile. “Papa’s just a little tired, is all.”

Maka stared at him, clearly confused as she nodded anyway.

Kami sighed, then interjected: “Maka, go back to your room, and Mama will bring you water in a moment.”

Maka bundled her cat under her arms, and with a quick “Okay, Mama,” began to waddle away. Spirit watched Maka leave, staying on his knees for a few more seconds as he heard her gingerly close her bedroom door. He pushed himself up to stand. He then turned and locked eyes with his wife, who was now standing as well. Spirit was startled, so remorseful towards and enamoured with Maka that he forgot the heartbreaking look on his wife’s face. Her expression was stony, her eyes were cold and hollow - a look he would get used to seeing in his daughter as she grew up. Spirit tried to make out what they were telling him. Was she angry? Sad? Pitiful? No… Most likely disappointed.

He tore his eyes away and collapsed on the couch. He assumed that was his bed for the night. The world was spinning. Everything he worked so hard for, this normal life, was going down the drain. He remembered just a few weeks ago holding Kami, kissing her. How pathetically so he wanted nothing more than to hold her hand, or to have her hold him. Spirit imagined a phantom of Stein lurking in the corner of the room, his illuminated glasses piercing through the dark, and a hostile smile on his lips as he cooed: I told you so.

“Oh, and if you’re worried about Maka…” Kami started. Her voice snapped him out of his daze. He raised his head and turned to look at her.

“Don’t be. I won’t be needing any child support.”


End file.
